


Thaw

by lysanatt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Romance, Samifer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the hardest, coldest people were once as soft as water. That goes for Sam, and it certainly goes for Lucifer. But seasons change, and thaw comes, turning ice into water once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thaw

**Thaw**

**Winter**

"You're proud of it," Sam says. He frowns, the realization making his heart scrunch in the same way as his forehead. "You're proud to be so cold." There are times, times like this when he does not understand himself, does not understand why he is here, with Lucifer.

"Ice burns," Lucifer argues. "Cold and hard and sharp. It burns hearts into shards. Splinters."

"That might be." Sam glares at the angel he hates more than anything in the universe, Azazel exempt. "Hatred burns too."

Lucifer pulls the comforter aside. "Better come to bed, then. Cold love is better than none. I should know."

And so should Sam. Maybe that's why he went to the devil: so that he could burn. Maybe it's the only kind of love he'll get in this short lifetime.

It's cold comfort, cold pleasure. But it is all Sam has now that he is alone. "It's all you get," he says as Lucifer slides into him, the only way he'll allow his enemy to touch his body. He turns his head away as not to be tempted into kissing Lucifer's half open mouth, to swallow the hot moans that come from it. 

The truth is cold.

 

**Spring**

The spring night is cool. The stars fade, one by one, as the night pales. One still shines clearly, heralding the coming of dawn. Sam stares into the ceiling for the umpteenth time, watching the cracks and the damp spot in the corner become clearer with the light. The room is a dump but that's what he can afford. Set aside, excluded, fucked over, lied to, almost destroyed, this is better. Being with Lucifer is better. 

Sam became tired of the lies, the betrayals. Tired of being _less_. Lucifer's affections are never lies. They are clear like the morning light, sharp-edged with blue sky and morning sun. Sam hates Lucifer and his bright, cold light. They hate each other and yet they cannot convince themselves to be apart. It is familiar, but it is better. It is better when the lies are gone.

Lucifer is gone, too, the spot in the bed where he slept still warm. Sam sighs deeply and turns his head into the pillows, inhaling the smell of their lovemaking.

Yes, the lies are gone, and he'd be lying to himself if he pretends that he doesn't want Lucifer to come back into his bed. 

To stay. 

 

**Summer**

There's a small garden behind their apartment. There is a tree outside his window. The flowers are white and pretty. It snows petals in the spring. Late summer apples are growing, maturing. All Sam needs is to reach out and take one. 

He waits.

The apartment is new, and so is Sam's suit. A gift from Lucifer. It suits him just as it suits his new job. His life has matured, too, rosy-cheeked with degrees and appreciation from colleagues and the professors at Stanford. Sam wants to take a bite of that life, a bite of Paradise. He is not sure that he is ready.

It takes a few more years before Sam knows. Life turned easy; round and sweet-smelling, like apples in summer. Lucifer, however, is constant. He's still cold and arrogant and cruel and possessive, a reminder of the winter that comes, even after the warmest of summer days.

Sam likes constant. He never had it before and he'd rather have it with Lucifer than with anyone else. Lucifer tells him that is how he feels too. _They are made for each other_ , Lucifer says. Lucifer never lies.

The ring is rosy-cheeked too. It's golden. It lies on a sheet of icy blue velvet, the dark blue leather box sweaty from Lucifer's hand. "Please?" Lucifer asks, down on one knee. "Please, Sam?"

Sam thinks that his life has matured adequately for him to take a bite of Paradise. Maybe it is time, too, for Lucifer to take back a bite of what he lost. And the fire in Lucifer's eyes burns hot. Lucifer is ready to take what he wants. 

"Yes," Sam tells Lucifer, without reservation.

They set the bed on fire that night, making love with the windows open and the August wind cooling their heated bodies.

 

**Fall**

The bottle is small and contains a kind of liquid light that Sam has seen before. It was a long time ago, in another life, with people he no longer knows or know about. He turns the bottle in his hand, studying it with reserved curiosity, not knowing what to say. His glasses perch on a pile of folders (The State vs Ted Johnson). Sam places the glasses on his nose, as if they could help him see better. His eyes aren't what they once were. Getting old sucks. "Grace," he says. "But the color is wrong." The small bottle shines silvery, like the morning sun on newly fallen snow.

"It's mine," Lucifer says. "The remains of the ceaseless beams of the glorious light of my father — turned into this by the distorted love I had for him. That's what he called it when he hurled me from Heaven. _My distorted grace_." Lucifer's smile is sarcastic."I do no longer want it."

"What do you mean, you do not longer want it?" Sam knows in his heart, and he is grateful. "You are aware what you will become without it, without this—" Sam pauses. "—this ice." Sam holds up the small vial.

"Human. I turned liquid. Soft. My final fall." Lucifer sits down on the couch next to Sam. "I'll be with you, Sam. For eternity. Did my father not promise a place in Heaven for those who asked forgiveness?" He strokes Sam's wrinkled skin. Lucifer's hand is warm. Strong. Safe.

"For humans, yes," Sam says. He smiles, and he can see a smile reach Lucifer's eyes. "I'd like that." Sam never cries, but a treacherous tear makes its way to the corner of his eye. Lucifer's eyes are strangely wet too; cold diamond tears that turn into thaw.

**Author's Note:**

> "All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living." ~Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You


End file.
